Death Note: 100 Themes
by Arya May
Summary: L and Light thought that they didn't believe in love, but only pride and the way things should and should not be. How hard would it be for them to admit their true feelings despite all? A collection of drabbles about the awesome pairing LXLight.
1. Lexicographical Descriptions

**_Drabble 01: Lexicographical Descriptions_**

If there is one thing that Light has to thank L for, it is his arrival, for because of that, the younger genius no longer swims in a sea of his own boredom. The responsibility of dumbing down his words is thrown away when around that eccentric, hunched over mess of a man, but netherless to say, that very freak of a human being, complete with deathly pale skin and gaping black bags under his eyes is the only one with possible mentality to understand the complexity of his thoughts.

Light has grown up looking down on people, for he knew perfectly well that he is above them and they stand in awe as he walks by. There has not been one that fails to admire Yagami Light, and many of these would try to walk behind him, try to shove him down with simply written text out of books and other sorry whatnot. those are the people that Light pitied the most, for only a sweep of a finger and they would fall-and, in all, become another faceless stranger that Light pays no heed to. He will always be superior to them, because that was just the way things were. Perhaps it was an over inflated ego, and overdose of arrogance and pride, but he had never met anybody who he didn't push over, he had never met anybody who could best him in anything (that is, with the exception of stupidity.)-so naturally, Light grew soon grew tired of the tirade of fools that followed him, for there was not one challenge that fate yielded that Light could not destroy.

And then, he met L.

Of course, the situation was grim on why they met, but Light was relieved anyway on how the dectective could balm his apathetic view on life and the better majority of humanity. L was like a complex enigma that could not be described by mere words, for one who tries to do that, even if that person is Light himself, it is like trying to recite a dictionary-and lexicographical means had to be taken.

Light likes to think that he understands the strange dectective, but sometimes, he feels like he knows nothing about him at all. L's personality was as changeble and fickle as the weather daily. Sometimes it was similar to the sun before the storm, sometimes it was like hail splattering the pavement. L was childish, and wonderously immature-forever chewing on his fingernail and making remarksthat made him sound socialy retarded, and when those times came, Light wonders why _this _person is even the greatest dectective of all.

But he doesn't forget-L is a genius, but so is Light, and that is probably the only thing that they have in common at all. If Light had believed in love or soulmates, he might have called it fate how L filled in every gap he left blank, how the way L stayed in his life made the jigsaw finally complete. But he doesn't, becuase Light does not believe in love or soulmates, but only the way things should and should not be, and lived in that world of black and white.

Sometimes when they end up chatting about nonsense over cups of coffee, they occasionally fall silent, and glance into each other's eyes, hazel gainst black, light against dark. These times would happen quite often, and when they did, obliviation would reign for a few empty seconds-and during that time, they would no longer be suspect and prosecutor, a supposed god and his enemy, but only Light and L, and both are aware of that instablebility that lay within the bond that the two so unconciously craved-but that doesn't stop them, doesn't discourage them.

Light likes to think that he knows L, but when he is held in those arms almost gently, almost lovingly, as he gives L for once-indulgence and not submission,a truce and not a surrender, does he wonder if he knows the great dectective at all. L is the only one to ever push him so far, and sometimes Light thinks that with scorn, but he has not fallen, and eventually, L will be the one who is surpassed.

**_Le Finis  
><em>**

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><p>Plese read and review! This was really one of the best things that I have ever written...<p> 


	2. Midnight's Dreams

_**DEATH NOTE: 100 THEMES **_

_**Disclaimer**__: I do not own DN, as much as I want to do so. I only own a copy of volume 10 and a poster of Raito-chan._

_**Drabble 02: Midnight's Dreams**_

L is an insomniac, so he was grateful when sleep was able to take him for the first time in days. Maybe at times-no, scratch that- he _was _envious of the fact that Light was able to slip out of reality so easily and effortlessly whereas he fought with both mind and body to drift in that black rift, and wander through those dreamless nights.

L never dreamed-it was always darkened muddle in which he swam in without tire, and when he encounters those situations, he wonders what it would be like to dream and run through those abstract fantasies one can so harmlessly toss himself in, but, most of the time he found comfort within his own black forest-only because of how Light would often throw himself up from ill experienced nightmares.

And when those times came, he would hold the brunet like a child holding a doll that was shattered but never broken. It is during those times that L truly sees a more humane side to the apathetic, impassive self that makes up Light, and-it is because of those times when he gazes into those clear hazel eyes, piled high with liquid emotion that dries and vanishes after a spilt second does he wish that Light does it more-because the great detective thinks that in that single vulnerable moment when walls break and fall, that Light is beautiful.

He never fails to be caught in that split moment when reality joins obscurity, never fails to be locked in that silent gaze and Light takes dominance of L's mind and heart both. Things are not the way they should be, and L is perfectly aware of the present situation, but he doesn't protest-for that is only the way things are in this complex road called life. Light is a genius, and so is L, but even L cannot force Light to fall, because of that haughty pride within the depths of those eyes as they lock onto the dull black that is L's. He cannot shatter the doll, nor force it to obey because Light is just that sly and evasive, and trying to contain him was as futile as trying to catch wind between fingertips. And it is because of that that things are not the way they should be-because desires simply remain desires and none of reality. Sometimes L loses himself, and he wonders if Light does to , for who would love someone you are supposed to hate? It is an unanswerable question despite the gaping tons of knowledge bestowed within L's formable mind. Light confuses him, drives him around in complex circles that he cannot turn back to-forces him on paths that he knows he will later regret-but that moment is not is not the time for confrontation. Now, they can still stare dazedly into nothingness and forget harsh reality. For even if the inevitable could not be avoided, it could be postponed, and L thinks that as he closes his eyes to the figure of the teenager lying beside him. It was a doomed trap from the very start, but he could not resist the gifts of poisoned nectar that it bared. He was aware that one day the haze would clear and hell would reign but now….Now he could only wait, and welcome anaesthesia while the present still allowed it-because that was not the way things should be, but only the way things were.

_**-Bons reves et les cauchemars-**_

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><p>Hope everyone enjoyed that. I will hopefully have the next chapter typed out (I have it written) tommorow! Please read and review! The sentence at the end is in French...feel free to translate it via google translate. thanks for reading!<p> 


	3. Valentine's Game

**_Drabble 03: Valentine's Game_**

It was obviously no exception that Kira must be bought down despite all circumstances, despite all lives lost. following those stated prodedures, it was even more obvious that under the ever so dominant eyes of L, that the task force still work on valentine's Day (well, Matsuda didn't want to, but then again, the importance of his presence and his opinion both amounted to close to nothing at all in value).

Light did not favor the holiday, L did for the sweets, which to Light, did not matter much in the slightest-he had never been one for anything laced with sugar, which always made L curious as to how one could surive without the substance as he dumped spoonful after spoonful of the sinful white powder into his tainted coffee under the brunet's disapproving eye.

But-the lack of sugary lust in Light did not call for a stop to the holiday-but only for other ways to celebrate, as he discovered a bright red dahlia blossom sitting on piles of paperwork beside a finger biting L, a slight glint in is dark eyes.

"You got me a flower." Light was surprised as he raised an eyebrow in the dectective's direction.

L simply replied with a small smile as he bit down harder on that finger in his familiar croutched position, "Someone else did.'

And Light glared, not wanting to lose in this gamr the other had created, though motive was unknown.

Later in the day, L found a box of chocolates waiting on his shut laptop. All suspicion was directed at Light, but that was not to say he did not appreciate the gift.

"Someone else did." the brunet replied when L parted his lips to ask, a hint of a smile gracing that mouth.

The dectective hid a small farce of a grin as he undid the wrapping. Light was never one to lose, even in a matter as trivial as this one.

**_-Preuve en le droit de juger physipuement, mais n'a pas le droit de juger emotionnellement.-_**

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><p>Thanks for reading, whoever read this so far...I really hope I get a review soon (Sobs)<p> 


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